


Smooches for Pooches

by haleofStilesheart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, College Student Stiles, Deputy Derek, First Kiss, First Meetings, Kissing Booths, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 05:31:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8389123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Stiles is on spring break from school and wants to take in all the annual Spring Fling Festival has to offer. That includes one extremely handsome kissing booth operator named Derek.





	

The annual Spring Fling Festival was a tradition in Beacon Hills.

Every year both local businesses and out-of-town vendors set up stands, booths, and tents along the bike path in Beacon Memorial Park, the line of attractions stretching for at least two and a half miles. Local farmers would set up displays of fresh produce and local honey for sale, and the hospital offered free CPR training and Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital water bottles. The high school always had a dunk tank and the vet clinic brought in puppies and kittens that were up for adoption. 

Every year almost all the money went to various charities, mostly local ones, or the hospital’s donation fund, occasionally a few dollars getting set aside for the sheriff’s department or the high school. The rest of the proceeds went to various other local businesses and services, the fire department receiving a large chunk and the farmers going home with heavy wallets.

And every year, without fail, Scott dragged Stiles to the festival when he would much rather be playing video games or watching TV or jerking off. Throughout high school, it was partially due to Scott always volunteering to work the vet clinic’s stand and wanting Stiles to hang out with him while he did, bribing him with promises of letting him play with the puppies and kitties. It worked every time.

Except, this year, it was Stiles who had dragged Scott to the festival, having missed town terribly while he was away at Princeton, wanting to make the most of his spring break. This time, it was Scott who had moaned and groaned about going, wanting to make the most of his spring break by staying home in his underwear or going out with Allison who had ended up tagging along with them to the festival. 

For the first half hour, Stiles had made it his mission to soak up as much of Beacon Hills as he possibly could: he bought a funnel cake that was bigger than his head from his favorite local bakery, jokingly smacking Scott’s hand away when he tried to grab a piece. He tried his hand at the high school’s dunk tank as Coach berated him like old times, bringing back fond and embarrassing memories of lacrosse practice. 

The look on Mr. Harris’ face when Stiles hit the bullseye dead on and sent him tumbling down into the ice cold water was absolutely priceless.

They were still laughing about it on their way to visit his dad at the sheriff’s department tent where they were selling t-shirts, baseball caps, and bumper stickers. That was when he saw it. The perfect tent.

The words  _ kissing booth _ were sprawled in sloppy red letters on a huge white banner, another smaller sign declaring  _ only one dollar! _ in dark pink. But it wasn’t wasn’t buxom blondes reapplying red lipstick or muscular shirtless men spritzing breath spray into their mouths nor any other cliche at the booth.

No, behind the counter was a pack of dogs, tongues lolling out in the warm breeze, tail wagging excitedly. He froze in his tracks, hand shooting out to grab Scott’s wrist, tugging him to a stop as he gazed longingly at the booth. 

“Dude, what?” Scott asked, waving his hand in front of Stiles’ face when he didn’t answer immediately. Stiles swatted his hand away, emphatically pointing at the kissing booth, stunned silent. Scott turned his head, following where Stiles was pointing, “What, the kissing booth?”

Stiles nodded vigorously, already dragging Scott, and by extension Allison, over to the booth where the group of dogs was eagerly awaiting them, barking in greeting as they approached. Scott rolled his eyes as Stiles made a beeline to the booth, whining, “Dude, really?”

A tall dark haired man greeted them at the booth, smiling brightly as he politely asked, “Hey, how can I help you?” 

Stiles’ jaw nearly hit the floor. The guy working behind the counter should have been on magazine covers, should have been on billboards in New York and LA, should have been in porn. Gay porn. The gayest porn.

He was a veritable Greek god with his bronzed tan skin and ridiculously muscular build, biceps bulging in his black t-shirt. His sharp jawline and high cheekbones were covered in dark, scruffy stubble. He had gorgeous hazel eyes, predominantly green with ribbons of gold and blue and flecks of brown, that took Stiles’ breath away, accented by the most expressive eyebrows he had ever seen.

But it was his smile, wide and completely unabashedly happy, confidently showing off his adorable bunny teeth and endearingly cute dimples, that made Stiles’ heart race and his cheeks flush with palpable heat. Caught off guard by the modern Adonis’ sudden question and dangerously good looks, Stiles dumbly blurted out, “I want a kiss!”

Immediately realizing what he had just said, Stiles flushed an even deeper shade of red, pursing his lips in embarrassment as the most attractive person he had ever met chuckled at him, Scott and Allison trying to stifle their own raucous laughter beside him. In a desperate attempt to save face, Stiles wildly at the dogs panting behind the counter, clarifying, “Them! I want a kiss from them! Not that you’re not attractive! Because you are! Attractive, I mean! And, I’m just gonna shut up now…”

He winced as Greek God laughed again, the tips of his ears burning deep red as he rubbed the back of his neck. Shaking himself out of his laughter, he explained, “Okay. It’s only a dollar and you get as many kisses as you want, really―”

“Oh my god, shut up and take my money!” Stiles interrupted, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. He yanked out a five dollar bill and shoved it into Derek’s chest before walking over to the dogs who greeted him with soft whoofs and wet doggy kisses.

He giggled blissfully as a white pitbull swiped its tongue over his left cheek as an overeager golden retriever hopped up with his paws braced on Stiles’ chest, lapping at his right temple. Stiles raised his arms to wrap the dogs in a tight, warm hug, scratching their heads and behind their ears, cooing about how good they all were.

Allison and Scott looked on with a mixture of awkward amusement and impatience until Scott petulantly groaned, “C’mon, Stiles! We wanna get to the Ferris wheel before there’s a line!”

Stiles rolled his eyes but begrudgingly extricated himself from the tangle of dogs and their kissing frenzy, resisting the urge to whine about how he never got doggy kisses. But, not wanting to embarrass himself any further in front of the god come to earth manning the kissing booth, he managed to refrain from complaining aloud.

“Hmph. Fine,” he relented, not above a little bit of pouting. He laid a kiss on the golden retriever’s forehead and scratched a black and white pitbull’s chin. “Well, duty calls, buddies. See ya later―” he turned back to Greek God who was watching the exchange with a blatantly fond smile “―Thanks again, man.”

“No problem,” Greek God answered, an endearing flush high on his cheeks. “Have a nice day.”

“Yeah, you too,” Stiles beamed, waving as he hurried to catch up to Scott and Allison who had already started walking away, heading towards the large Ferris wheel at the end of the bike path, talking about how excited they were to ride it. Stiles valiantly refrained from making a dirty joke, biting his lip as he fell into step behind them.

As expected there was, indeed, a line at the Ferris wheel, Allison and Scott leaving Stiles behind to wait in line for their little romantic interlude. They left Stiles to wallow in loneliness on a wooden bench with a few other third wheels, playing Temple Run on his phone until they returned half an hour later, cheeks tinged pink as they held hands. 

He rolled his eyes and stuffed his phone back into his pocket as Scott informed him of the photo booth at the other end of the festival that they quickly began heading to. Again, he stopped Scott and Allison halfway towards the photo booth, jogging back over to the kissing booth and slapping another five dollar bill onto the counter before flouncing over to the dogs who eagerly greeted him.

Greek God laughed as Stiles lavished each dog with special attention and incessantly baby talked them, babbling, “Awww! I love you guys, too!”

Allison and Scott were less amused, tugging him away from the kissing booth before he could get his money’s worth. He was somewhat bolstered by the fact the photo booth was big enough for three people, eagerly climbing inside to get a few pictures with his friends.

He had to admit he died inside a little bit when Scott rudely shoved him out of the booth, apparently only wanting pictures with Allison. Dejected, Stiles puttered around the ring toss while he waited for them, managing to win himself a goldfish in a bag, instantly naming it Jennifish Lopez and thinking about how a fish bowl would look back in his dorm room.

He was startled out of his thoughts by Scott grabbing the bag out of his hand and crowing, “Oh, cool! A goldfish! Dude, can I have this?”

Stiles nodded reflexively, not even processing Scott’s words. There was a sinking feeling in his gut when Scott suddenly grew serious and began, “So…me and Allison were thinking about getting out of here. To go  _ y’know _ .” 

Great, Stiles was getting ditched for a quickie. Story of his life. 

And he’d lost his goldfish. Some spring break.

He just shrugged and waved them off as they turned back towards the parking lot where Allison had parked. Once they were gone, Stiles waving at them again when they passed in Allison’s car, he spun on his heel and made another beeline for the kissing booth. He had a feeling only doggy kisses could make him feel better.

Greek God was waving to a curly haired blonde woman who was strolling away from the booth when Stiles got there, only looking up when Stiles laid down another five dollar bill. He peered over Stiles’ shoulders like he was looking for something, Stiles desperately praying he didn’t split his pants. Not again.

Instead of drawing attention to any humiliating wardrobe malfunctions, Greek God asked, “Where’d your friends, go?”

“They ditched me,” Stiles confessed, immediately feeling even worse admitting it aloud, and to the hottest guy ever, at that. The white pitbull snuffled against his cheek, distracting him from his third wheeling woes and causing a small smile to spread across his face as he scratched behind the dog’s ear. “So, anyway, what are these guys’ names?”

“That’s Lucky,” Greek God claimed, nodding at the white pitbull as he stepped closer. “We rescued her from a dog fighting ring up by Stanford―” he reached over to run his fingers over the faint pink scars on the pitbull’s jowls and neck, her torn left ear “―They were using her as a bait dog. She got out with a lot less damage than most so she’s our lucky girl.”

“Oh my god, that’s awful!” Stiles gasped, rubbing his hands through Lucky’s short white fur, thumbing over her pale pink scars. He scratched the side of her chest, tossing his head back in a deep laugh when she began to involuntarily shake her hind leg. “Awww! Such a good girl, Lucky!”

“This is Cooper,” Greek God continued, indicating the energetic golden retriever that was wagging his tail like an overjoyed puppy. “We found him wondering around LA all skin and bones. Figured someone just left him there.”

“Assholes,” Stiles cursed under his breath, Greek God snorting at the pithy words. Stiles leaned over to ruffle Cooper’s thick golden fur, assuring him, “Whoever left you is an idiot. You’re such a good, pretty boy, aren’t you?”

He listened patiently as Greek God introduced the rest of the dogs, providing brief little anecdotes about how he had come by them.

There was Max, a fawn pitbull they’d found locked in a hot car three summers ago in the middle of the year’s worst heat wave; Xena, a spirited little blue pitbull puppy taken from a horrible hoarding situation; Domino, a black and white pitbull they had found trapped in a storm drain; Diablo, a solid black pitbull from an illegal puppy mill; Red, an ironically named black lab they’d found in the woods after an unfortunate hunting accident in which he’d been shot; and ,finally, there was Tikaani, a thickly furred gray Alaskan malamute someone was trying to pass off as a wolf in some traveling circus in Washington. 

Stiles loved them all.

“Oh, I’m Derek, by the way,” Greek God tacked on as Stiles greeted every dog by name with a kiss on the top of the head. Stiles looked up, eyebrows raised in interest.

“I’m Stiles,” he introduced, smiling politely. “Nice to meet you, dude―” he paused, glancing at the jar of money on the counter “―So, where’s all the money for this going? Because I’m sure you’re making a killing.”

“Oh! Uh, half the money goes to the Peace, Love, and Pitbulls organization and the other half goes to our animal sanctuary,” Gre―no, not Greek God, Derek―Derek said with a modest shrug, ducking his head almost shyly. “So, it’s all going to a good cause.”

“What animal sanctuary?” Stiles asked, leaning his elbows on the counter as the dogs continued ecstatically licking his face and neck, head tilted to regard Derek.

“The Hale sanctuary,” Derek claimed, holding back laughter at the way Stiles wrinkled his nose as the dogs licked his face. He threw his thumb over his shoulder as he added, “In the preserve.”

“Oh, okay. Cool. I didn’t even know there was an animal sanctuary in the preserve,” Stiles mused aloud. Raising his voice above a mumble, he ventured, “So, I’m guessing you must be a Hale, then.”

“Yeah,” Derek nodded with an easy smile, tapping a name tag on the front of his shirt that Stiles hadn’t noticed before, too distracted by how good Derek looked in the t-shirt to realize anything was on it.  _ Duh, _ Stiles’ mind helpfully supplied as he read the name  _ Derek Hale. _

“Well, it was nice talking to you, Derek,” Stiles began, noticing a small line forming in front of the kissing booth. He pulled a few singles out of his pocket, slipping them into the jar of money by Derek’s hand. “But I should probably get out of your hair. See ya around.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed, smiling brightly as he watched Stiles walk away.

Stiles spent the rest of the day aimlessly wandering around the festival, getting a little bit of food from nearly every vendor, not wanting to miss a thing the festival had to offer. He tried his hand at a few more games, doing pretty good with the ring toss again and dart throwing, failing miserably at the strongman game. 

Deaton greeted him with a grin and a firm handshake when he visited the vet clinic’s tents, playing with the only two kittens who had yet to be adopted, two little calico and white females. Deputy Graeme hugged him when he finally meandered over to the sheriff’s department’s tent, his dad hurrying to try and hide the deep fried Oreos he was munching on, the new deputy he’d heard so much about nowhere in sight.

As dusk approached and vendors began to pack up their tents, Stiles strolled back over to the kissing booth, hoping for one last session of doggy kiss therapy, hoping to maybe work up the courage to ask Derek out. When he arrived the dogs were already gone, a tall black man who clearly wasn’t Derek taking down the  _ kissing booth _ and the  _ only one dollar _ signs. Stiles couldn’t help but pout, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the dirt.

“Hey! Stiles!” A somewhat familiar voice called. He whipped his head around, almost getting whiplash, to see Derek jogging towards him, raising a hand in greeting.

“Hey, Derek,” Stiles greeted. He peeked over Derek’s shoulder. “Looks like you guys are closing up shop―” Derek nodded “―to be honest, that kinda sucks. I was hoping for another kiss.”

“Yeah?” Derek asked, subtle blush coloring his cheeks again, intriguing Stiles.

“Yeah,” Stiles confirmed, completely unprepared for what happened next.

Derek’s big, warm callused hands came up to cup his face and guide him into the best kiss of his entire life. Derek’s lips were firm but gentle as they moved against his, confident yet somehow shy as he kissed Stiles, inching closer to mold his body against Stiles’.

Stiles melted into the kiss, raising his own hands to lay them over Derek’s, squeezing softly as he ardently returned the kiss, the answering movement of his lips spurring Derek to move impossibly closer and kiss him even deeper if such a thing was even remotely possible. Stiles whimpered as Derek traced his bottom lip with his tongue, the touch both teasing and pleading at the same time, Derek smiling into the kiss at the needy whine.

Eventually the need for oxygen won out over the need to keep kissing, both of them reluctantly breaking the kiss, Stiles hesitantly reopening his eyes. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the dark ruddy blush on Derek’s cheeks, dropping his eyes down to look at Derek’s lips. They were wet and kiss swollen, parted slightly as he panted, breath fanning out over Stiles’ lips in warm huffs.

Tightening his grip on Derek’s hands, Stiles tentatively asked, “That-That wasn’t for the kissing booth, right?”

“What?!” Derek yelped incredulously, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Seemingly processing what exactly Stiles meant, he was quick to frantically reassure him, pressing soft, fleeting kisses over his face, mumbling, “No, no, no, no, no…”

Stiles could feel his shoulders slump in relief, more and more tension seeping out of his body with every kiss Derek trailed over the bridge of his nose, over his cheeks, the top of his head. He leaned into Derek’s gentle but sure touch, puckering his lips in a silent request for another kiss. Derek was addictive. 

Without a trace of hesitation, Derek indulged him, breathing a laugh against his mouth before catching his lips in another tender embrace, brushing his thumbs over Stiles’ cheeks, tracing his moles. Pulling back, Derek whispered against his lips, “That wasn’t for the kissing booth, either. Though…if you wanted to you could repay me?” 

“How?” Stiles asked, perhaps a little too eagerly, gazing up into Derek’s absolutely mesmerizing eyes. 

“Go out with me?” Derek said, turning the statement into an earnest question at the last second. “Maybe dinner this Saturday? The diner on Fifth?”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles agreed, nodding his head as much as he could with Derek still holding his face. “I love that place.”

A call of Derek’s name from behind him stopped them in their tracks before they could kiss again. Stiles whined petulantly as Derek dropped his hands and looked over his shoulder. Turning back to Stiles, he stated, “Sorry, I have to run. But―” he pressed a quick, chaste kiss to Stiles’ lips “―I’ll see you on Saturday.”

He turned to leave, jogging over to the tall black guy Stiles had seen taking down the banner for the kissing booth. Derek had gotten all the way to the other man’s side before Stiles realized something very, very, very important, cupping his hands around his mouth and calling to Derek, “Wait, Derek! I don’t have your number!”

The guy beside Derek threw his head back and guffawed loudly as Derek scratched the back of his head nervously. Stifling his laughter for a moment, Derek still looking chagrined, the black guy yelled back, “Just ask your dad for Deputy Hale’s number!”

“Boyd!” Derek exclaimed, smacking his friend in the arm, looking red-cheeked even from where Stiles was standing. 

He blinked. Had he really just been asked out by one of his dad’s deputies? He shrugged and called back, winking flirtatiously. “Okay! Call me later, Deputy!” 

He bite his lip as Derek blushed deeper and nodded shyly. He’d always loved a man in uniform.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the Peace, Love, and Pitbulls organization's website: [peaceloveandpitbulls.org](http://peaceloveandpitbulls.org/)  
> Visit me on Tumblr: [hale-of-stiles-heart](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/)


End file.
